


Like A Slap in the Face (Which Race is Into, Apparently)

by Maccarist



Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Choking, Hair Pulling, I’m sorry honestly, M/M, Race gets slapped a lot but it’s all in good consensual fun UWU, Race is kind of a slut ngl, Smut, dirty talk ????, like really rough smut, minor voyerism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 16:19:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15934055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maccarist/pseuds/Maccarist
Summary: Spot is so gentle with Race and Race really just wants to get punched honestly.





	Like A Slap in the Face (Which Race is Into, Apparently)

**Author's Note:**

> This is highkey pretty rough so I’d skip out on indulging in this fic if you’re not into that! Also I didn’t proofread a single word in this so sorry if it’s fucked ;///

Race loved Spot. He would even go as far to say that he was in love with Spot. In all of their years of being together, the boy fascinates Race in nearly every aspect. He was gorgeous and kind and so, so gentle. Race swooned every time Spot so much as stretched and his tummy showed under his t-shirts, or he placed small kisses to Race’s head every now and again. To say the two were head over heels for each other would be a massive understatement by anyone who knew the two. With that in mind, it was quite evident that the two still had plenty of sex together. It was a given, they were both young and active, that was a natural fact, yet, that was the one aspect in their relationship where their interests truly collided in a less-than-desirable way.

Race was kind of over love-making. Sure, it was nice. It was loving and slow movements that left Race and Spot alike panting against each others necks and shoulders. It was promises of undoubted love and trust, all vulnerability shared between two lovers. Nonetheless, it got boring kind of fast. They had been together nearly two years now, and that was all they did. Gentle, soft, slow. Race loved Spot, god did he love that boy, but he was too...soft with Race. As if Race was some fragile little guy.

Contrary to the short boys looks, too. His physical demeanor practically screamed hard-ass from the way he was always scowling and looking ready to start a fight. Race always found it kind of hot when Spot got protective of him in public, Spot was a hard-ass, but he was nothing but loyal and loving towards Race. Sometimes Race would deliberately flirt with strangers in public or get touchy with their friends to try to prompt some sort of sexual dominance out of Spot, yet, to no avail, nothing came of it other than a grunt and a glare at the aforementioned person Race flirted with. Race didn’t care to admit how much the glares and solid arm gripping his waist those nights gets him bothered. He also didn’t care to admit how many times he had gotten off to the thought of Spot’s toned arms gripping him all over, dominating him. He noticed these thoughts had become a true problem when he couldn’t even look Spot in the eyes without imagining what his eyes would look like when he was hovering tall over Race’s trembling body, dark and hooded with want.

Race knew it was a problem, but he didn’t know how the hell he was to bring it up to Spot. He decided a shot in the dark was the only real way to talk about it. So that’s exactly what he did.

It was getting pretty late, Race and Spot were lounging on the couch, some music playing lightly from their stereo, the boys silently basking in each others presence. But Race couldn’t focus. He kept looking up from his place on Spot’s chest to see the boy. His head was laying back against the arm of the couch, exposing his very soft looking neck, and he had this small cute smile on his face that made Race swoon. Suddenly, everything about Spot became palpable. His muscles, his toned thighs, the way his breathing made Race’s head move with his chest. He truly was an entity.

This of course egged on Race to move upwards and place small kisses and nibbles along Spot’s jaw. Spot hummed a bit and moved his head to look down, his neck still craned to the side to let Race do his thing.

“Enjoying yourself there?” Spot joked, groaning a bit when Race bit at a particularly sensitive area on his skin.

“Missed you. Want you.” Race whispered behind Spot’s ear.

“What? Racer, I’ve been with you all day. We’ve only left this couch like twice in the past 24 hours.” He giggled, confused.

“No. Miss you. Miss this. Your body, your skin-“ He breathed out over the well tanned skin on Spot’s neck.

“-it’s been awhile. Miss your neck.” A kiss on his neck.

“-Your cheeks-“ Two kisses placed on each cheek.

“Your mouth.” He finalized his statement with a peck on the lips, his tongue only slightly diving into Spot’s ever parted lips.

Spot wrapped his arms gently around Race and pulled him so that the slimmer boy was straddling Spot. Race smiled down at him before leaning down to kiss the boy hard. Their lips collided in a frenzy, Race more aggressive than Spot. He whined and ground down on Spot lazily, trying to spur rougher movements from Spot, but huffing and pulling away when Spot didn’t reciprocate.

“Everything okay?” Spot asked, rubbing circles along Race’s hipbones under his shirt, which would’ve turned Race on to all hell if he wasn’t so agitated.

“You’re too gentle.” He said, bluntly.

A confused look flashed across Spot’s face.

“Too gentle. Racer, you can’t be too gentle with someone when making love. I just want to be careful.” Spot retorted softly.

“No thats just it. I get that you’re all liberal about this whole “cherish your partner” and “be vulnerable” stuff, but don’t you get bored? There’s so much to explore.”

Race grabbed one of Spot’s hands and slowly started moving it flatly up Race’s body on his own command, starting just above his groin.

“You can be as gentle or as rough as you want-“

Spot watched from below, a mixture of want and an emotion Race couldn’t quite pin evident on his face. He let his hand be led willingly, following it’s movements closely.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to some-“ Race cut himself off as he settled Spot’s hand firmly against his neck.

“-Punishment”

Spot quickly registered what Race was implying and shook his head, retracting his hand from Race’s grip and sitting up as best as he could without hurling him off of his lap.

“I don’t want to hurt you, babe.” Spot said.

“Spot, I want to be hurt, please. I’ll make sure to tell you the second I’m uncomfortable with something. Please, just hurt me. Hit me, spit on me, I don’t care. I want it.” Race whined, moving his hips against Spot’s, groaning.

Spot still looked reluctant, his eyes shifting as he thought over the words in his head, trying to push back his initial arousal at Race’s proposal.

“I dunno. What if I hurt you really bad? What if I make you cry? I couldn’t bare to see you cry, Rac-“ Spot started to rant only to be cut off by Race’s lips.

A gentle kiss.

“I won’t make you do anything babe, trust me. You can back out at any time. But please don’t back out because you think I wont like something.” Race said softly, smiling and running his fingers along the hair at Spot’s nape.

Spot analyzed the look in Race’s eyes and he swore he could see... desperation? Whatever it was, Race clearly was on board. And if Race was on board, then so was Spot. He could do this.

“Okay. But if you feel uncomfortable for even a second, tell me and we will stop immediately.” He said seriously and Race only chuckled a bit under his breath.

“What’s so funny?” Spot asked.

“Nothing, you’re just real sweet, you know that?” Race beamed at him wholeheartedly, Spot returning the grin in earnest.

That definitely eased Spot’s initial worry.

He quickly leaned back in to press kisses along Race’s neck, starting off with simple pecks, but quickly moving up to gentle bites. Race groaned out and tightened his grip in Spot’s hair.

“Harder, bite me harder, please.”

Maybe it was the whininess of Race’s voice, or maybe it was the way he was grinding himself down against Spot, but it didn’t take much to make Spot really want to mark up Race like that. He moved over a spot next to his Adam’s apple and bit down, hard. Like, really hard. Spot thought it was a tad bit too much until he heard Race moan loudly and writhe above him.

“Again, fuck.”

Spot moved his mouth behind Race’s ear, a favorite spot of his, and bit down until deep teeth marks appeared on the skin surrounded by a deep red color. Spot would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying this just a little bit. He most certainly wasn’t one for dominance, but seeing Race get off on pain caused by him was definitely doing something good to him.

After a few more vicious love bites, Spot used his strength to haul himself over Race, causing the other boy to lie flat on his back against the couch. He groaned at the sudden shift of power and rutted his hips upward. Spot sat back on his heels for a moment, contemplating.

“Still okay?” Race asked, sitting up on his elbows.

“Yeah, I just don’t really know what to do. I don’t know what you want.”

Race ran a hand along Spot’s arm.

“Let’s just start with something simple.” He contemplated for a minute before a flush spread across his face and he looked up sheepishly at Spot.

“Would you maybe be willing to pull my hair?” He asked and, from the way his chest heaved a bit and his face went red, Spot just couldn’t refuse.

He nodded absentmindedly, more focused on the curly blonde mop of hair resting on Race’s head. He brought a hand up to cup Race’s cheek first. He leaned in a placed a few kisses to his lips, smiling gently. After a few moments, he moved his hand up into Race’s hair, the other resting on his waist softly. He kept his lips pressed to Race’s while his hand experimentally tugged at small handful of messy locks, a small deep noise emitted from low in Race’s throat which was enough indication to try a bit more. He grabbed a large fistful and forcefully pulled so that his head moved to the side. Race let out a cry and Spot eased his grip instantly.

“Was that too much?”

“Harder, god Spot, so much harder. Please, I promise it doesn’t feel bad at all.” He mewled, eyes screwed shut and his hands clenching at the collar of Spot’s shirt, no doubtably stretching it.

Spot licked his lips and nodded to himself, reaffirming his tough grip on Race’s hair. He tugged hard backwards, exposing more neck. This angle caused Spot to be able to see Race’s Adam’s apple bob with every heavy swallow and Spot was enjoying the view more than he wanted to say out loud.

“God, you’re gorgeous like this.” Spot murmured, his hand still tight around Race’s locks.

Spot’s words made Race keen even more and thrust his hips up against Spot’s. Spot ignored it despite the urge to press back.

“Now what?” He asked.

“Hit me.”

“What?”

Race finally opened his eyes and peered up at Spot, nothing but seriousness in his look.

“Hit me. Slap me, I don’t care, just hurt me.” He grunted.

Spot seemed hesitant. Apparently this hesitance was very obvious, because Race sat up and wrapped his arms around Spot’s waist, the angle slightly awkward due to their chests being pressed together upright and Race straddling Spot. Race grabbed Spot’s hand and guided it up to his face to rest on it. His eyes coaxed deeply into Spot’s with want and he dropped his hand, but Spot’s large one remained.

“Tell me, if it’s too m-“

“I promise you that I will love whatever you do unless I say otherwise. Now please, just hit me.”

Spot circled his thumb on Race’s cheek for a moment before he pulled back slightly only to quickly replace his hand roughly across his face. Race moaned, like outright moaned like Spot had never heard before. He eyed the red handprint just barely showing on Race’s pale skin and he felt his stomach stir with warmth.

“Do the other one.” Race whined, tilting his head up.

“I never pinned you as the shameless type.” Spot half-joked, but swiped his hand across the other side of Race’s face, harder this time.

“-You are going have a lot of questionable marks after this. People are going to think I tried to murder you or something.” Spot muttered half-heartedly, but Race laughed nonetheless.

“Fuck, you’re right. That’s kinda hot though.”

“What, me trying to kill you? That’s some next level kinky shit, that’s a bit too much for me tonight.” Spot grinned and Race laughed some more.

“Just hit me again, dick.” Race huffed, half in annoyance and half in admiration for the boy above him.

Another blow to the side of his head. Race moaned, loud and shameless.

Spot muttered something about their poor neighbors, but he didn’t hold onto that thought for too long as Race took the hand resting on his face and sucked Spot’s thumb into his mouth, tonguing it down gently. Spot’s heart leaped right out of his throat and his brain couldn’t form a single coherent thought except for: _Race is sucking on my fingers and it’s really hot Jesus Christ_. Race opened his eyes and gleamed up at spot, his eyes hooded and a small smile surrounding his finger.

“You aren’t real, fuck.” Spot grunted lightly.

Race only winked and closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of Spot’s digits. This carried on for a few minutes before Spot grew impatient and pulled his fingers away, moving them back into Race’s hair and giving a faint tug. A guttural grunt fell from Race’s lips and he started leaning back again so he was flat on his back with Spot hovering.

“Now what?” Spot asked coyly.

“Fuck me.”

Again, literally shameless.

Spot wasn’t one to complain though, especially as he finally payed mind to the fact that he was considerable aching in his pants. He leaned in to kiss Race and his hand traveled down his body to start tugging at the boys jeans, pulling them down to his thighs before he had to pull away to get them completely off. Pants were accompanied by underwear and soon Race was left in nothing but one of Spot’s shirts, in which Spot couldn’t help but gawk at how it showed off his stomach due to Race being so much taller than him.

“You look so nice in my clothes.” Spot murmured, fingers running against the fabric on Race’s chest.

“Yeah I know, you tell me all the time.” The boy giggled back.

Giggling quickly turned into a moan as Spot promptly grabbed Race’s length and started to stroke it with slow, languid motions. Race continued to buck his hips but, much to his dismay, Spot only shook his head and used his free hand to pin Race’s hips to the couch. Race looked up into Spot’s eyes with want, his lids hooded and drooping with every upstroke of Spot’s wrist.

“Fuck me, please. I want you.”

“Anyone ever tell you patience is a virtue?” Spot half joke, yet complied, pulling away from Race and standing to go to the other room, Race left panting and whining on the couch.

Spot came back to see Race bucking up against his hand as he gently got himself off, eyes screwed shut and his mouth parted and emitting gorgeous sounds, and Spot nearly dropped the lube he went to grab from their bedroom. Spot stopped briefly to stare, licking his lips and feeling himself get impossibly harder in his own pants. Race heard shuffling and looked over towards Spot, not stopping his movements. If anything, the audience spurred Race to put on a little show for the boy.

“You just going to stand there, or are you going to come do something to me?” The blonde smirked.

“I don’t know, you look pretty nice from this angle.” Spot retorted playfully, already trailing back to crawl over Race’s akimbo body.

They kissed roughly, teeth clashing and lips being bitten and pulled, all the while until a cap was heard to be opened and a drizzling sensation fell around Race’s entrance. The wet feeling was accompanied by a light pressure against him until Spot fully sheathed his finger inside of Race. The boy groaned and pushed back against the tight feeling, basking in the press of sensitivity within him. One finger quickly evolved into two and then eventually Race was three-fold, red faced from arousal and being hit, and his entire body sweating, causing the shirt still on his body to cling to his warm skin.  
  
“Ready?” Spot asked.  
  
“Do you really need to ask?” Race mumbled, his voice just barely loud and hoarse enough to be heard.

Spot only nodded and pulled his fingers out, leaving Race feeling empty. The empty feeling was only temporary because after Spot freed himself of all of his clothing in record time, he could feel Spot’s cock pressing against his hole accompanied with more lube being drizzled around it onto Race’s bottom. A press came quickly and Spot groaned, leaning in to Race’s neck to conceal his grunting and leave a few more rough bites against the already sensitive and raw skin of it.

“Fuck, move.” Race quickly spoke, legs wrapping around Spot’s back to make him move quicker.

“So needy.”

Spot quickly moved in and out at a voracious pace, his hands clutching -and most definitely bruising- Race’s hips. Race was no doubly blissed out of his mind at the roughness in Spot. He still wanted more though.

“Choke me.”

Spot slowed his movements nearly to a complete stop as he looked down at Race nervously.  
  
“Racer...”

“Please. I want it so bad, please.” Race babbled only to be cut off by a thumb pressing against the large bite mark Spot had caused early next to his Adam’s apple.

Race gulped with anticipation and used his hands to place pressure onto Spot’s so he felt that pressure on his neck. A wave of pleasure surged through his body as his airflow began to cut off slowly with the weight of Spot. The pressure built until he couldn’t breathe and Spot was moving inside of Race again, rough and fast and oh man Race was definitely happy with his current situation.

Just as he felt like he needed to dive up for air, Spot was already moving his hand, opting to forcibly smack Race’s face again. Race moaned the loudest he had that night, the mix of pain on his face combined with the pleasure of Spot filling him up. Spot placed his hand back on Race’s neck, choking him again and it was in this moment of blurred thoughts and bare coherence that Race realized that Spot wasn’t making love to him. No Spot was fucking him, and he was fucking him _dirty_.

Just that thought began to make Race teeter over the edge into his orgasm, the pressure on his neck finally forcing him to blow all over his chest and the shirt on his body and his moans barely heard due to his lack of air to form the sounds. He quickly came down but he was still being fucked into the couch. The sensitivity caught up with him fast and he felt a whole new rush of ecstasy run over him as his already fucked out body kept getting pounded by Spot.

“God, fuck.” Race moaned weakly when Spot let his neck go again, finally resting it on Race’s exposed hip.

His thrusts quickly became sparratic until he too was coming, hot inside of Race.

“God Racer. Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” Spot started after a few moments of being a deadweight against Race.

Race hummed, not opening his eyes. He was really fucking tired.

“I didn’t hurt you too bad right? You’re still okay? No substantial injuries? I wasn’t forcing you to do anything righ-“ Spot started as soon as he pulled out of Race and the boy only rolled his eyes and leaned up to kiss Spot.

“I loved every second of that, and that is a promise.” Race said sweetly and he smiled when he saw Spot noticeably relax.

After they cleaned themselves up, they retreated to their bedroom, their eyes already half closed as they crawled under the sheets together. Race remembered the discomfort of the shirt he was wearing and chuckled, quickly sitting up to take it off and throw it onto the floor before settling back into the bed against Spot’s chest.

“I meant it, y’know.” Race grinned softly against Spot.

“Meant what?” Spot asked, running his hands through Race’s hair, only further prompting Race to doze off.

“That you’re really sweet. You take such good care of me, tonight was amazing though. Definitely not complaining about it.” Race concluded and the last sound he heard was an agreeable hum from Spot before they both fell into unconsciousness.

*

The next morning, Race woke up to an ache that made him smirk to think about and the sweet smell of coffee wafting though the apartment into his room. He was quick to notice the absence of his boyfriend, causing him to shift out of bed and onto his feet. He looked across the room and saw a pair of underwear next to a neatly folded shirt on the chair in the corner accompanied by a sticky note on top of the clothing with hearts drawn all over it. Racer smiled and how fucking sweet Spot was. He pulled on the clothes after tucking away the sticky note into his bedside drawer and happily retreated out into the open air of their apartment where he was Spot standing in nothing but sweatpants leaning against their kitchen counter, drinking coffee.

Race gleamed and walked up to Spot, leaning into the shorter boy and cuddling him close.

“You are so fucking cute.”

Spot giggled.

“I try. By the way, I would advise that you invest in some concealer or some shit because you’re neck is looking rough, dude. I don’t want people thinking I’m abusive or something.” Spot said, eyes glazing up over Race’s neck.

“Huh?” Race started before going to the nearest mirror and investigating for himself.

And well...yeah okay. His neck was almost completely covered in scratches and bruises as well as a long bright red line all across the lower portion of it. He blushed a bit.

It was worth it, he decided.


End file.
